


i found a new home in you

by wingspike



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Sex, Falling In Love, M/M, PWP, Riding, odin's new robes are too much for laslow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingspike/pseuds/wingspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes odin's robes are just a little frustrating and somewhere laslow fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i found a new home in you

**Author's Note:**

> where is the laslodin love?

When Inigo - no, _Laslow_ first sees Odin in his new robes, he's shocked. Or maybe shocked isn't the right word so much as he's suffering second hand embarrassment because Odin needs help with a few snaps before he's fully secured into such a ridiculous garment.

And maybe secured isn't the right word either because it barely covers _anything_ and it makes Laslow a little hot under the collar. He won't admit it and he'll deny it until the end, but he'd have to agree that it was the first time he'd remotely felt attracted to his friend of many years and many wars.

Growing up he knew him as Owain. Loud Owain, showy Owain, reliable Owain who never let his friends down and did everything without a shred of regret (or at least it would appear that way). Laslow _knew_ he was strong, knew he could handle things, really knew that he kept things locked up but he never touched on it, never pried. It wasn't in his right to do so in the first place, anyways. If Owain wanted to come talk to him, he would. He did so before in the stuffy air of the hot springs in what felt like a day off in the middle of war, yet it also felt like a dream and completely unreal for Owain to be so open.

But now he was just Odin. Strong and still reliable and probably just as theatrical, but now he'd grown up. There was a different kind of maturity about him as he supported Selena and Laslow, and Laslow had definitely noticed it. He had noticed the way he quieted down more often and frequently caught him in thought when Odin probably assumed no one was looking, but Laslow always was.

He was always looking at Odin with that stupid outfit, with those new robes that were too fitted and too revealing for him to keep his thoughts straight. Laslow hated the way they made him feel, the way he blushed sometimes when Odin would move just right and his cape would reveal a little more of his lower back exposed through sheer fabric; he hated the way he felt warm when he witnessed the pull of Odin's muscles in the rare moments he would practice with a sword, always wearing his robes even when Laslow suggested something more casual for a fun bout of sparring. Those robes had him dreaming at night, had him muffling himself into his pillow in his far room in Nohr's castle with his hand in his smallclothes and a shameful blush on his cheeks.

After all, this was Odin he was thinking of. _Odin Dark_ , the guy who had always been his friend no matter if he was pushing him away or pulling him close and he had no right to make Laslow feel as he was.

But it was hard. It was _so hard_ when Odin was the way he was; warm in the mornings when he came to get Laslow when he was hard to wake after staying up too late dancing, gentle at night under the stars when they both couldn't sleep and he was willing to take a walk with him down to the lake where they dangled their feet over the edge of the dock, bright after battle when he rushed up to him and pulled him into his arms as if silently telling him ' _I'm glad you're still here_ '.

He knew Selena saw it too when she would catch him staring a little too long at Odin across the room at dinners where he laughed with his Lord, knew she would catch him watching Odin on the battlefield to make sure he was alright, as if Laslow was ready to jump into the lion's den if it at least meant saving him (and his excuse would be that it was for Ylisse, for the Halidom, for their prince). Her gaze was knowing yet she never said a thing - something he would eternally be grateful for because it felt like something he needed to face alone.

And he did - face it alone, that is. He faces it alone in Odin's room after he shouts a childish confession at him before he finds himself up against a heavy oak door with his hips pinned and a mouth hot against his own. He's lax where he parts his lips, tuned in directly to the feel of Odin's on his own because he has dreamt of this, dreamt of Odin's hands and mouth on him and it's even better than any dream his imagination could have ever come up with.

Laslow breathes out a breath of hot air, head tipping back to wood with a soft thunk to allow Odin more room where his collar has been pushed to the side. He feels teeth sink in above his pulse and knows it's going to leave a mark before he lets out a soft hiss, helplessly rolling his hips against the thigh pressed firm between his legs.

"Please - _Odin_."

That gets him moving and Laslow can't complain as he pushes him back to the bed and shoves him down into plush pillows. He's desperate for this, hands shaking where he pulls at the clasps of Odin's cape before they're sliding underneath the edges of the mesh pulled tight across his torso. He stills when he feels hands encircle his wrists, chocolate gaze snapping up to meet one that's much calmer and _damn him_ for having such control.

"Hey - calm down, I'm not going anywhere."

It's gentle to his ears but it doesn't fully soothe his nerves as he inhales, fingers pressing into Odin's ribs.

"I'm sorry, I just - I've been waiting. I wanted this long ago. Are you sure this is..?"

He sounds nervous and he hates it; hates the way his voice wavers but he feels a little more calm with the thumbs rubbing absent circles into his wrists.

"Okay? Of course."

Laslow nods to that, accepts it before he begins to undo his own belts, begins to divest himself of his own top and vest before he's kicking off his shoes and pulling at the buttons of his pants until he's left in only his smallclothes. He doesn't know where the sudden energy comes from, doesn't know where this false confidence is from, either, as it settles in his veins while he works at Odin's boots and pants next. It takes another second for him to steel himself until he hooks slim fingers into Odin's smallclothes to ease them down, inhaling sharp through his nose.

Odin is more well endowed than he expected him to be and hot to the touch where he experimentally wraps his hand around him, touch tentative. He looks up to normally gentle grey eyes blown dark where he watches him without fail and he can't help but bite down on his own lip at the sight. He just looks _so good_ underneath him like this, cheeks red and fingers curled into Laslow's hips like they want to pull him forward but are resisting. His voice is low when he speaks, hips weakly tilting into Laslow's touch and it makes his heart lurch to think he could have such an affect on Odin.

"There's oil in the bedside container."

Laslow nods and climbs off of him for a moment to retrieve it before he sheds his own smallclothes. He crawls back to where he was positioned above Odin's hips before he uncorks the vial and dumps the remaining onto his fingers, warming it and spreading his legs a little further. It takes a moment for him to breathe and gather his remaining courage with a blush burned onto his fair cheeks before he's pressing a finger into himself, eyelids fluttering while he adjusts.

"Are you--" It sounds hoarse but Laslow doesn't open his eyes to it.

" _Shut up_ ," is all he can bite out before he's sliding in a second finger alongside his first. He slowly works himself open, then, encouraged to relax more by the hands soft on his inner thighs, along his hips, his lower back. He steadies himself with his free hand against Odin's chest, breath coming harsh through his nose where he bites back a moan.

He relaxes enough that he thinks he's ready - or as ready as he really can be when this is Odin. Odin who makes him lose his cool, Odin who makes him feel more embarrassed and like a little school girl with a petty crush, Odin who is sure to make him feel good in moments to come.

And he isn't wrong. He can tell that much when he's done spreading the extra oil from his fingers onto Odin's length before there are gentle hands on his hips to guide him down and sweet kisses against his lips when he's seated fully and left to adjust. He's not weak, though - he knows he can handle it despite how absolutely full he feels until he gives an experimental roll of his hips and chokes on a gasp.

"Ah - _shit_."

He murmurs the words into Odin's neck before he tells him it's all right, before he gives the green light. And then there's Odin rolling up into him with shallow thrusts, slow thrusts that turn deeper and more purposeful in their intent. He bottoms out with each one and Laslow is left to moan against him, left to take it until he takes his own initiative and sits up as fully as he can with hands braced against Odin's chest.

"Don't. Let _me_."

He requests it more than he commands it but Odin still listens. He slows but not completely before Laslow can pick up his own rhythm. As much as he can, he tries to match the pace from before. It's hard when his mind feels hazy, when his vision flickers each time his lashes lower, when his prostate is brushed _just right_ and leaves fire burning at the base of his spine with the warmth that mounts low in his stomach. He knows he's close with each moan lost to the room, knows he's close when he involuntarily tightens around Odin's cock before he feels a release and he's coming hot and fast and untouched with Odin's name on his lips like a mantra.

He's a little less coherent and overstimulated without a care when he feels the hands on his hips guiding him. Laslow feels Odin thrust into him a few more times, hears a soft gasp of his name before he feels even more full and even more warm and satisfied than he ever has on his own in the cool of his sheets.

It takes time but he eventually comes down, mellows out and blinks away the fog before he lifts his hips and leans down to press a kiss slow to Odin's lips. It's easy even when he parts his lips, presses his tongue lazy to Odin's. He pulls back with a smile that's fond and is returned with one equally so, with a touch on the back of his neck that just asks for another kiss.

He gives in, then - gives in for just a few more moments until they really need to clean up, because he's more than happy to stay like this.


End file.
